


Cannonball

by Sugakane_01



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (possible) PTSD Stiles, But not THAT spoiler, For funsies see if you can spot the line inspired by a sob worthy Buffy moment, M/M, Mention of Panic Attacks, Post Nogitsune!Stiles, Scott is a Good Friend, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Spoilers for Insatiable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 19:07:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1358554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugakane_01/pseuds/Sugakane_01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is lost in the darkness that the Nogitsune left behind.  Scott is the light that leads him home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cannonball

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Little Mix cover of Damien Rice's AMAZING song "Cannonball".
> 
> I don't think there's any untagged potentially triggering content and I did my best to tag appropriately but if you feel that I've missed something just let me know and I'll fix it ASAP.

Stiles was alone in his head for the first time in months and he no longer saw the world through the malevolent glare of a trickster spirit bent on creating chaos. With the Nogitsune gone he was left to take in the aftermath of its rampage through the regretful and weary gaze of a bruised and battered teenage boy. Stiles was free but his mind and body hadn't gotten the memo. His heart raced, he couldn't get warm, and the numbness in his fingers and toes signaled that he teetered on the edge of a panic attack. Stiles felt held down by fear, buried under guilt, weak with relief, and sick with pain all at the same time. He had been able to experience the echoes of feeling while the Nogitsune was in charge and now the physical sensations and myriad of emotions rushing through overwhelmed him. It was too much, too fast, too soon.

He closed his eyes against the expressions of hope, fear and suspicion staring back at him and tried to breathe. Stiles forced air into his lungs and attempted to take comfort in the familiar room. He curled his fingers into the cushions of same sofa where he'd taken many an afternoon nap and he let his eyes travel over the art prints lining the walls and family photos displayed on table tops. He peeked past the archway into the dining room and remembered how many meals he'd eaten at the cherry wood table. He refocused on his surroundings and his heart lurched when confronted by the anxious sea of faces watching him. He realized his father's wasn't among them and terror crawled up his spine at what that could mean.

When someone—he didn't know who—reached out and clasped his shoulder he bolted. Or rather, he tried to. The need to get out, get space, _get safe_ overrode everything else. The volume in the room increased as people shouted at him but their voices all blended together into an indistinct cacophony of noise. Stiles couldn't make out anything they were yelling at him. Hands reached towards him, faces blurred together and all Stiles felt was fear. He needed protection. He needed safety and security and he couldn't find either because his dad wasn't there.

Stiles couldn't remember everything the Nogitsune had done while it had been in power. It terrified him that his father's absence could mean something bad had happened to him. All Stiles knew was that his dad was missing, he was afraid, and he needed to get out. He tried to run but hands were on him, holding him down, keeping him trapped. Voices in his ear shouted at him to stay still but they didn't understand. He needed to escape. He needed his dad. He needed them to let him go. He needed to run, to scream, to breathe. He _needed—_

"Stiles. Stop, you're safe here. I promise you're safe here. _Let him go_! Stiles, Stiles you're okay. I'm here and you're okay."

_**Scott**_ _._ Scott was there. It would be okay because Scott was there and Scott was safe. For Stiles, Scott meant safety and home just as much as his dad did _._ After being afraid for so long, Stiles _needed_ to feel safe. He needed to come home. Stiles reached out blindly and fell forward as his knees buckled. He braced for impact but never hit the ground because Scott closed the distance between them and caught him before he could fall. In the midst of all the panic Stiles clung to Scott as if he were the last solid thing in a dissolving world. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in Scott's chest, breathing him in and let the familiar scent ground him. The noise amplified around them but Stiles shoved it aside. He tightened his hold on Scott and blocked out everyone and everything else. He tried to speak; tried to force the sounds out over his tongue and past his teeth but nothing came out. He tried again but the words died before he could give birth to them. He took a shaking, shuddering breath and pushed past the molasses in his throat to whisper into the din.

"Scott. Scott. _Scotty._ " His voice cracked, split apart and broke over the words but he succeeded in getting them out.

"Yeah, it's me, you're you and we're okay. You hear me, Stiles? We're okay. We're okay, Stiles." Over the symphony of concerned voices and the thunderous pounding of his own heart Stiles heard his name. Just his name, steeped in tears and soaked in thankfulness but to him it sounded like a prayer sent up to the heavens on gossamer wings. Stiles didn't answer. Instead he burrowed deeper into Scott, as if he were trying to crawl inside of him.

Hands landed on Stiles's shoulder followed by a tug as someone tried to separate the two of them. He panicked, his fingers biting into Scott's flesh as he scrambled to hold on. He felt the angry rumble of Scott's growl vibrate through the Alpha's chest. The other hands disappeared and Stiles relaxed again. Stiles's heart turned over in his chest when Scott's hands came up to cup his face, holding him still and staring at him.

"You're you," Scott whispered and Stiles nearly shook apart at the tears in Scott's eyes.

Stiles nodded. "I'm me."

* * *

They were in Scott's room, lying side by side on Scott's bed, knees touching, and breath mingling as they drank each other in. Once Scott had him behind closed doors he'd gotten his father on the phone for him. After hanging up Stiles had cried the ugliest of ugly cries. He'd lain in Scott's arms and let loose a litany of howling, broken sobs that left his eyes burning and his face blotchy and swollen.

Stiles didn't even have it in him to feel embarrassed.

"I missed you so much." It was the first thing Scott had said since Stiles had quieted. Scott trailed a finger down Stiles's face and grinned. "You have no fucking idea how much I missed you, man."

"I missed me, too." Stiles murmured. "And you. And my dad. And Melissa and shit; I just missed everyone. I was there, the whole time but it's like I wasn't there. It was like living in a fog filled mirror swaddled in bubble wrap. I could see snatches of things but then the scene would shift and I'd be lost. And I couldn't _feel._ I would lose time and I didn't know what was real and what wasn't. The only time I ever knew for sure I wasn't sleeping or hallucinating was when he'd make me play Go. I don't even know why we were playing; I just knew that I needed to win. I hurt you. I hurt Coach. I hurt Isaac. I scared your mom and almost killed my dad. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry—"

Scott stopped him mid-apology. "It wasn't you," Scott told him. "The crap at the hospital, the thing in the woods, and the bomb at the station, none of that was you, Stiles. That was the Nogitsune. It wasn't your fault that thing got loose in the first place and it wasn't your fault that it used you to hurt people. You didn't do any of that. The only thing you did was hold on until we could get you back. I'm not mad at you, okay?"

"What about everyone else? Aiden looked like he wanted to rip my head off."

A crimson rim appeared around the brown in Scott's eyes. "I will tear him to pieces if he even tries."

"Scott—"

"I mean it," Scott growled. "When things fell apart with Allison, I thought ' _this is what it's like to lose someone'_. I mean, with my dad it didn't feel like he was really lost. I always knew where he was and I figured that maybe someday we'd find a way to fix stuff. It was different with Allison. It just ended and then she left…but I still hoped, you know? But when she came back she didn't come back to me and I felt all hollowed out and empty. I thought nothing could ever hurt me more than the way I hurt then." Scott's hand tightened on Stiles's wrist and he breathed deeply. "But then I had to watch that _thing_ walk around with your face, using your body and your relationships just so it could hurt us. You were gone, _really gone_ , and I was so scared that I'd never get you back. That's when I realized that I'd been wrong. Allison was my first love and I'll probably love her forever but I didn't lose her. We changed but she's still here and even though we aren't together she's still my friend and that's…that's a lot. But you…Stiles you're everything. And you were gone and that's when I realized what loss really was. I lost you but now I've got you back and I promise that nothing and no one is ever going to take you from me again."

Scott's voice had broken and Stiles reached out and wrapped his fingers around Scott's bicep. "I'm here, Scott." He rested his forehead on Scott's and tangled their legs together. "I'm right here and I promise you I'll never leave you again. You don't leave me and I don't leave you. From the cradle to the grave, remember?"

The reminder of the promise they'd made back when werewolves were as unlikely a reality as Batman and Power Rangers broke them both and the sobs started up again. They held each other and cried, their tears mixing together. By the time the well ran dry they both had several patches of salty moisture decorating their clothing. Stiles felt Scott place a kiss on his forehead and tilted his head to get a good look at his friend.

Scott smiled at him. "We're okay, Stiles. You know that? As long as there's you and me, we're okay."

And Stiles did know. He would probably never be able to explain to another living soul the depth of his relationship with Scott. They said they were best friends and brothers from another mother but that wasn't enough, not nearly enough to describe what they were. Stiles carried Scott with him, down deep, under his skin, tucked in safe inside his heart next to his mother and alongside his father. "I need you," he mumbled into the hollow of Scott's throat. "I always kinda thought that but now I _know_. I get that makes me sound pathetic and clingy—"

"It makes you sound human." Scott's reprimand was gentle but left no room for argument. "There's nothing wrong with needing people. Especially when they need you back. I know a bit about what it's like for your body to not be your own and for someone else to be in your head making you do things that you don't want to do. I know what Peter did to me isn't exactly the same as what happened to you. I'm not saying it is, but I remember feeling helpless and scared and not understanding why I couldn't make it stop."

Stiles crumbled under the avalanche of guilt. "One more thing I got wrong that you had to pay for."

"No," Scott's diamond edged and laser sharp voice cut through Stiles's pain. "You didn't drag me out into those woods kicking and screaming. I wanted to go with you. And when your dad called out for me, I chose to keep hiding. And yeah we were both pretty stupid that night but Peter's the asshole who chased me down and bit me so the only person to blame is him. Not me, not you, Peter. We don't carry his baggage. We have enough of our own, got it?"

Nodding Stiles agreed. "Yes Alpha my Alpha, I got it."

Scott smiled. "Smartass. Listen, I get that this is hard, man. But I'm here, Stiles. I'm here, and so is my mom, and your dad and Lydia and Alli, her dad, Deaton…Kira's been helping and dude, even Derek's pitched in. We're all here for you and we'll get you through this. Even if I have to pick you up and carry you, I promise you'll get through this."

"I made you bleed." Stiles pulled back and put distance between the two of them. "Your blood was literally on my hands. I don't know what to do with that. Where am I supposed to put that? _I made you bleed_."

Scott reached out and hauled Stiles back into his arms. Stiles twisted, trying to get away but Scott refused to loosen his hold. "I healed." He took Stiles's hand and placed it underneath his t-shirt. "Feel that? There's nothing left, not even a scar. I healed, Stiles. Now it's your turn. It might take you a little longer and it might leave a few scars but what you do now is heal."

"Scott—"

"You don't have a choice," Scott cut him off. "You're going to lie here and let me hold you until you fall asleep. And you are going to sleep, Stiles. And then you're gonna wake up and we're gonna go downstairs. Your dad's gonna be here by then and he's gonna hug you and then he's gonna hug me and then mom's gonna feed us. We're family and we're all gonna help heal you, one step at a time cause that's what family does. That's what pack does."

Stiles closed his eyes against the burning sting of tears. "Fuck," he swore. "I am so sick of this. I haven't cried this much since my mom died."

"There's nothing wrong with crying," Scott reassured him. "You're hurting. You're allowed to hurt, Stiles. You said you couldn't really feel anything while the Nogitsune was in control. Maybe it's all just catching up to you now."

"Maybe," Stiles allowed. "But I think I've gone dry, man. If I keep this up I'm gonna dehydrate."

"We've got plenty of Gatorade in the fridge."

Scott said it so earnestly, so seriously, so _Scott-like_ that Stiles couldn't help it. The wall he'd been trying to construct crumbled, leaving nothing between him and the swell of emotion rising up inside him. He hadn't thought he had anymore tears to give but he'd been wrong. The sorrow filled him, crested over the ridge and then flowed over. He cried, not the full body sobbing of before but a soft, steady weeping that was somehow worse.

Through it all, Scott was there. Stiles no longer had his wall but Scott stood in its place, holding him tight and whispering words of comfort meant to ease the ache of a pain he couldn't leech.

"I feel like he broke me," Stiles confessed. "I can't feel anything good, Scott. Everything hurts. That's all he left me. I just _hurt_."

"I know." Scott said. Stiles could hear the edge of helplessness in Scott's voice and he felt another piece of him break off and drift away. "I wish I could…" Scott's words trailed off as one of his hands wrapped around Stiles's forearm. "I can't take away this kind of pain. I would if I could."

"I know you would," Stiles said. Scott's wasn't the only blood that had spilled. The Notgitsune had preyed on every doubt and fear that Stiles had, cracking him open and making him bleed. He was still bleeding, wasn't sure he'd ever stop.

Stiles focused on the wet spots he'd left on Scott's shirt and nodded. "I know," he said again. "I just, you know it's gonna hit you. The stuff I did to you, to Kira. The way I scared your mom and put everyone in danger—"

"That wasn't you—"

"It's gonna hit you," Stiles spoke over Scott. "And I just need to know that when it does you'll stick around. If you need to bail Scott, just go now because I won't be able to deal with it if you –"

"Fuck that and fuck you for saying it," Scott snapped. "I have never bailed on you and I never will."

"Never is a long time."

"Yeah well I'm a werewolf. I've got a long time."

"I'm a human."

"You're a pain in my ass is what you are," Scott told him. "But I'm keeping you anyway."

The corners of Stiles's mouth quirked and he raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were a werewolf not a friendly ghost."

"Shut up," Scott groused.

"No, no that was good," Stiles smiled. "You're keeping me, eh Casper? Lucky for you I'm all housebroken and everything."

"You mean lucky for you," Scott corrected him. "Mom is serious about her hardwood floors."

Stiles started to smile but then pulled it back. He slammed down the lid on the soft glow of warmth that had started to melt the ice around the edges of his soul.

"Don't do that," Scott admonished him. "I can feel it when you do that."

Stiles feigned innocence. "Do what?"

"Shut down on me," Scott said. "You wanna know what hurts me, Stiles? That hurts me. You cutting me off, keeping me out. _Talk to me, Stiles._ Tell me what you're feeling, what you're thinking, what you need. I'm your best friend, your brother, damn it dude I'm your Alpha. I'm right here, I'm going to keep being here, so fucking talk to me."

Stiles shuddered.

"Trust me," Scott whispered.

Stiles exhaled. When Scott put it like that Stiles didn't have a choice. Trusting Scott was like breathing. Stiles was afraid, so afraid, but Scott had never lied to him, never left him and he had to trust that he wouldn't do it now. Scott was asking Stiles to believe that if he stepped off of the edge of the world Scott would be there to catch him before he hit the ground.

There was no way that Stiles could refuse him. He'd never been able to tell Scott no, never been able to stay mad at him or deny him anything he truly wanted. If what Scott wanted was Stiles's trust, then he'd scrape together enough of his broken bits and pieces for a decent offering.

"Y-you," Stiles stuttered but then pressed on. "You have other people. What happens when they want you, too? What happens when Isaac or Kira or Allison or Ly—"

Scott's eyes went soft and he raised one hand to cup Stiles's face. He ran the pads of his thumb across Stiles's bottom lip and smiled. "Yeah I have other people. So do you. But they aren't…they may want me, Stiles but you're the only one who's ever needed me. And I need you right back. So Kira, Allison, Isaac, Lydia…I'll be there for them but that doesn't mean I'm leaving you."

"Prove it," Stiles whispered. He wasn't sure what he wanted Scott to do, or even if there was anything that Scott could do but he trusted that Scott would figure it out.

Stiles may have been the guy who figured out everything else but Scott had always been the guy who figured out Stiles.

Scott stared at Stiles for a few moments and Stiles squirmed, feeling as if Scott were looking through him instead of looking at him. He lowered his eyes and was about to tell Scott to forget it when he found himself being gently turned over onto his back. He looked up and Scott was there, straddling his hips, leaning over onto his forearms for balance.

"So this is new," Stiles quipped.

Scott shook his head. "This isn't new. This is us."

They'd kissed before, back when they were thirteen, curious and terrified about going to Danny's birthday party because Jackson had teased them about being the only losers who wouldn't know what to do during Spin the Bottle.

That kiss had been perfunctory. It had been quick and brusque, a clumsy coming together of lips and teeth. It had left them unable to look each other in the eyes, vowing to never speak of it again and trying their best to forget it had ever happened.

This kiss was different. This was a kiss that Stiles would lock down deep inside his soul and only let out of its cage if he felt he was drifting and needed something to hold onto. This was a kiss he'd remember, from the softness of the memory foam mattress underneath them to the rasp of Scott's stubble over his skin. Stiles would take every second and every sensation and lock it up tight so it would be safe and sound and his forever.

Stiles opened up under Scott's touch like the petals of a flower blooming under the gentle kiss of the sun. He dragged his mouth away and looked up at Scott, mumbling though kiss swollen lips. "What if—"

"Shh," Scott said, nosing along Stiles's jaw line, down to the base of his throat and back up. "Trust me."

"I do." Stiles insisted.

"Then stop," Scott whispered. "You said the Nogitsune took away all your good feelings and left you with nothing but pain. You're hurting and you're scared. I can't take your pain but I can make you feel something else, something good. Let me."

Scott didn't wait for him to answer. Stiles felt the press of Scott's lips under his jaw and then a subtle pressure and hint of teeth against his throat. His fingers dug into Scott's shoulders and he instinctively tilted his head back. "Scott. Please," he murmured, hands fisting the fabric of Scott's shirt, pulling, pushing, seeking skin. "I just, I need, _please_."

Stiles wasn't sure how to verbalize it, how to make Scott understand that what he needed was to be pressed down and surrounded. He needed Scott to fill up all his empty spaces and live inside of him, underneath his skin.

Stiles realized he didn't have to worry about finding the words. He was with Scott and even when he didn't know anything else, Scott knew Stiles.

Scott's mouth covered his again and where the last kiss had been gentle this one was fierce. Their tongues tangled together, swirling around one another as they stole the air from each other's lungs. They licked, sucked and bit, their passion bordering on the edge of savagery before Scott pulled them back.

Easing apart left Stiles wrecked, broken down from the inside out and desperate with need. When he felt Scott tugging on his shirt he lifted his arms up and allowed the tee to skim up his body and off over his head. Seconds later Scott's shirt met the same fate. Cool air hit his skin, goosepimpling his flesh and Stiles shivered. He didn't cross his arms over his chest or try to hide from the heat in Scott's gaze. Instead he simply lay back, closed his eyes, ready to take whatever Scott felt generous enough to give him.

Scott's teeth closed over his collarbone and Stiles hissed as his cock filled. The warmth of Scott's body retreated and Stiles opened his eyes. Scott looked down on him, his fawn brown eyes dark, black pools of liquid want.

Scott leaned down bussed Stiles's lips before settling back on his haunches. His fingers rested on the snap of Stiles's jeans and he met Stiles's eyes. "Tell me this is okay." Scott murmured, asking for Stiles's permission to continue.

"So okay," Stiles assured him. He reached out and traced the curve of Scott's lips. Scott grabbed his fingers and placed a kiss onto his fingertips.

"Thank you," Scott said, releasing Stiles's hand and undoing the button on Stiles's jeans. He worked the pants open leaving a trail of kisses over the exposed skin. "No underwear?"

Stiles shook his head. "I'm a boxer's guy and I'm pretty sure my doppelganger was a brief's man."

"Or maybe he just had a thing about cartoon characters on his crotch."

Stiles flicked Scott on the forehead. "Rude. I'll have you know my Deadpool boxers are the milkshake that brings all the boys and girls to the yard."

Scott chuckled. "I'll have to remember that," he whispered and then stole Stiles's breath away when he scraped his teeth over the sensitive triangle of skin underneath his navel. Stiles held his breath as Scott followed the silky fine hair of his treasure trail down to the next button. When Scott parted the denim he exposed the curly thatch of velvet brown at the base of Stiles's cock. He worked his fingers over the rest of the buttons and freed Stiles's shaft from its jean covered prison.

Stiles nearly jack-knifed up off of the bed when Scott bent and kissed the flushed, straining curve of his cock but Scott held him still, hands firm on Stiles's hips. He slid Stiles's jeans down his legs and dropped them on the floor by the side of the bed before removing Stiles's socks.

Stiles watched as Scott stripped himself of his own pants, boxer briefs and socks. Scott stalked back up the length of Stiles's body and pressed a kiss onto one hipbone, then the other. A pearl of salt bitter precome pooled in the slit of Stiles's cock. Stiles moaned when Scott swept the pad of his thumb through the moisture but he reached out and grabbed Scott's hand when he thought that Scott might follow up the motion by spreading the taste of Stiles's salt on his tongue.

"Can't," he gritted out, his voice strained. "Malia…at Eichen House…we weren't safe. And I know that you're a werewolf and I know that the risk is like, almost none but almost isn't good enough. I won't risk you, Scott. Not even a little bit."

Scott didn't argue. He nodded his agreement and reached into his bedside drawer to remove a string of condoms and bottle of lube.

Stiles snorted. "In the nightstand, huh? How Dear Penthouse Forum of you."

Scott grinned back. "My mom's a nurse. Supernatural werewolf immune system or not, she's all about safer sex." Scott's forehead wrinkled. "And I think she'd actually kill me if I got anybody pregnant."

Stiles grimaced. "Can we not talk about your mom or teen pregnancy right now?" He gestured towards his dick. "I'm wilting."

Scott gave him a wicked grin. "Can't have that."

The click of the bottle opening made Stiles swallow down his response and then Scott was there, his tongue in Stiles's mouth and a lube slicked finger playing at the edges of his entrance. Recalling every scene from every Jake Bass video he'd ever watched Stiles broke the kiss and exhaled as he pushed back onto Scott's finger, nearly growling in frustration as it disappeared before it breached him.

"What—"

"Stop. We don't have to rush."

"Yes we do," Stiles grumbled.

"No we don't," Scott disagreed. "I promise you we have time. You're not going anywhere, not ever again and I'm not leaving you. We have time to go slow."

The words warmed Stiles from the inside out, loosening more of the frigid grip of fear the shadow of the Nogitsune had cast over him. He licked his lips. "I don't…I haven't…I have a very limited repertoire I'm working from and slow isn't exactly in my wheelhouse."

"It's in mine. I got this. I got you."

Stiles worried his lower lip with his teeth but he nodded. "Okay then. Rock my world, old buddy, old pal."

Rolling his eyes Scott kissed Stiles again, slowly at first and then it warmed and deepened as the passion seeped in. Stiles reached up and cupped the curve of Scott's jaw and opened up, probing the depths of Scott's mouth with his tongue. His fingers found their way from Scott's jaw around to the nape of his neck and curled into the dark satin of Scott's hair as they kissed.

All too soon Scott pulled away. "See? Slow is good."

"Yeah, slow is good. Slow is great but I swear to God you keep stopping and my balls are gonna turn a previously undiscovered shade of blue," Stiles groused.

Scott didn't answer him; instead he sucked hard at the pulse point at the base of Stiles's throat. Stiles moaned and bared his neck, exposing the pale column of his throat. Scott accepted his offering, teeth nipping lightly at the tendon before biting down hard. A moment later Scott's tongue swept over the spot to soothe the sting before he sank his teeth, blunt and human, back into the spot. He repeated the process before kissing down the length of Stiles's chest.

A soft, startled cry burst forth from Stiles when Scott's lips closed over one of his nipples, sucking, biting, and teasing the dusky nub to a hardened peak. " _Son of a fuck_ ," he groaned, his fingers tightening in Scott's hair. Scott's tongue moved over to the other side of his chest and Stiles shook as Scott's tongue slid over and around the hardening bud.

Stiles let go of Scott's hair and slid his hands down the wide expanse of Scott's back. His fingers dipped into the curve of Scott's spine and he lightly raked his nails across the sun kissed bronze skin. His hands delved down lower and landed on Scott's ass. Stiles squeezed and stroked the twin globes, enjoying the feel of the heated flesh underneath his palms.

Stiles rolled his hips forward and nearly screamed when Scott met his exploratory thrust. Their erections rubbed together and Stiles's legs splayed wide as he pushed into the pleasure. His grip tightened on Scott's backside as he tried to pull Scott further into the cradle of his body. He let out a frustrated grunt when Scott refused to move and pulled back instead.

"Turn over," Scott whispered.

Stiles complied, turning over onto his stomach. He folded his arms onto the pillow and then put his head down on top of them, squeezing his eyes shut. His heartbeat thundered in his ears and he jerked when tender hands massaged over his tense ass cheeks.

He sighed when Scott dropped a kiss on the small of his back.

"Relax," Scott whispered. "Trust me."

"I do," Stiles swore. He sucked in a sharp breath and slowly let it out when he felt the warmed slick of lube drizzle down his crack. When Scott's finger followed he struggled not to push back or pull away and instead buried his head in the pillow. He curled his fingers into its downy softness, squeezing it tight.

Stiles felt Scott's finger moving, pushing in deeper at each pass, seeking the pleasure button inside him. When he found it Scott brushed over it again and again until Stiles whimpered and writhed beneath him. Stiles's cock throbbed, beads of come leaking from his slit. He gave up his struggle and rocked backwards, moaning out his approval when Scott added a second finger to join the first.

Scott had promised him slow but the way Scott played with his body as he prepared him sent Stiles out of his mind. Scott kept two fingers inside him, sliding over his prostrate and stretching him while he used his other hand to massage Stiles's cock and balls. He leaned over Stiles's back and whispered a litany of filthy praise into his ear that made Stiles blush.

Stiles looked back over his shoulder and arched an eyebrow. "You kiss your mother with that mouth, Scotty boy?"

The devil was in Scott's answering grin. He leaned forward and covered Stiles's back with his body. Scott murmured into his ear. "I do a lot of things with this mouth."

Stiles snorted. "Oh my God, really? Seriously, Señor Cheese those lines actually work for you?"

"Got you underneath me." Scott pointed out.

"Yeah, but everyone knows I make terrible life choices."

Scott huffed. "You're such a shit."

"Love me anyway?"

Scott kissed Stiles's shoulder. "Always." He promised. "You need me to stop, you tell me to stop."

Scott's earnest concern was on the edge of too much for Stiles so he retreated into the familiar sanctuary of sarcasm. "Pretty sure I've been trying to get you to _go_ for like the last forty-five minutes, dude."

Scott removed his fingers and kissed the back of Stiles's neck. "Get up on your hands and knees."

Stiles mourned the loss of those talented digits but he followed Scott's instructions. Before his nerves could set in he felt the heavy weight of Scott's cock nudging against his opening. His world splintered into pieces and spiraled out as Scott slid inside him.

Stiles breathed deep and bore down against the bright shock of pain. He trembled, perched on the ragged edge of too much and not enough but he didn't want to stop.

He wanted more.

Even before the Nogitsune Stiles's head had been a kaleidoscope of people and thoughts, information and questions, doubts and fears, responsibilities and regrets all swirled together. The Nogitsune had added another layer to the chaos and left Stiles unable to deny how badly he needed something solid to hold onto.

He hadn't known he'd find that something in the heavy weight of Scott's body draped over his or the steady drag of Scott's cock as he moved inside him.

He grabbed a fistful of checkered comforter and relaxed his body, moving to Scott's rhythm. He tried to accept in his mind what he'd already accepted with his body: That he was safe, that he would heal and that Scott wouldn't leave him.

The residual fear of that last thought had him shoving back a little too hard and making him cry out in pain.

Scott stilled and squeezed his hip. "I'm here. I'm not leaving. You're safe. I got you."

Stiles let the words wash over him and he pushed down the panic. "S-sorry." He apologized.

"Don't be. It's okay, we're okay." Scott began moving again and Stiles whined. The burn was intense, but it wasn't pain that had Stiles feeling as if he were being torn apart from the inside out. It was the loving, almost reverent way that Scott touched him, as if he were something fragile that needed to be handled with care.

Slowly Scott fed him his cock, never giving Stiles more than he could take and backing off even when Stiles urged him to go harder and faster. It wasn't until even the tiniest pin pricks of pain evaporated that Scott lowered Stiles to the mattress, sliding a pillow under Stiles's belly.

"I won't hurt you, Stiles, not even when you ask me to. But I am going to make you feel good." Scott's throaty whisper was ripe with promise and Stiles nodded, unable to find his voice. Stiles sank his teeth into the meat of his forearm as Scott let himself back inside. Scott's hands threaded through Stiles's hair and pulled, dislodging Stiles's teeth from his arm. His back bowed and Scott swooped in for a brief kiss. Stiles felt Scott's weight settle over him and then Scott's hands covered his, twining their fingers together in a tight clench.

Stiles arched into the searing stretch when Scott pushed back inside of him. Scott's thrusts were slow, punctuated with feather light butterfly kisses along his shoulders and sharp bites to the back of his neck.

Scott kept his promise to make Stiles feel good. Every sensation was an exercise in pleasurable torment: The hard glide of Scott's cock skimming over his prostrate, a soft brush of lips across his skin or a warm, wet swipe of his tongue down his spine. Propped up and spread open Stiles could only moan and clench down around Scott's shaft as Scott sank into him and sent lightening racing along his nerve endings with every stroke.

One of Scott's hands came up and buried itself in his hair again, tipping his head back. Stiles moaned as Scott's lips traveled down the line of his jaw and then double backed up to outline the shell of his ear. The tip of Scott's tongue retraced the path of his lips and then his teeth followed suit. Scott anchored Stiles in place, keeping him from falling down and rutting against the softness of the pillow. Stiles whimpered and wriggled as Scott ran gentle hands over his sweat dampened skin.

Scott's nimble fingers closed around his dick and Stiles keened in need at the rough pull on the head and the sweet pleasure-pain created when Scott ghosted his thumbnail across the sensitized slit.

"Please," Stiles's head bowed down onto the bed, his sweat soaked brow seeking the cool cotton sheets. "Please. Please. Scott, come on, come on, _come on_ , just please."

Scott shushed him and then set a new pace, pulling out as far as he could before sliding back into the heat of Stiles's body. Stiles bucked and writhed under Scott, trying to take in as much of Scott as he could.

Stiles's world narrowed down to the slap of flesh on flesh and the feel of Scott on top of him, around him, and inside of him. He gave himself over to the pleasure and lost all control over the sounds pouring out of his mouth when Scott began to plunge deeper into him. The heat between them twisted and built and they moved to frantic rhythm, each thrust and clench taking them higher and higher.

Stiles felt his climax grow closer, snaking its way along the back of his neck, tightening his sac and tingling along the length of his spine. Harsh breaths escaped him as he tried to hold back but Scott urged him on, forcing Stiles to the brink and threatening to push him over.

Scott wrapped his hand around Stiles's cock and stroked. Stiles moaned and Scott kissed the spot behind his ear. "Let go. I got you." Scott whispered.

The coil of tension snapped tight and Stiles felt himself thrown over the edge of his own pleasure before he knew what was happening. His shoulders tensed, his neck strained, his legs stiffened and he clenched down around the cock inside him as his orgasm washed over him. Stiles spilled out over Scott's hand. He hardly had time to realize that he'd just come when Scott snapped his hips forward and buried himself inside Stiles in one final thrust following him over into the abyss. Stiles choked on a scream when Scott bit a bruise onto the back of his neck as he rode out the wave of his own release.

Stiles reached for Scott's other hand and held it tight as the breath left his body and the rabbit fast rapid beat of his heart threatened to burst out of his chest. He pushed back and clenched down, milking every last drop from Scott, shaking and shuddering as the condom filled with spunk.

Stiles's arms and legs gave out and he fell gracelessly down onto the mattress, barely taking the time to fling the come covered pillow onto the floor. He grunted when Scott pulled out but hardly noticed when Scott rose and went to dispose of the condom. Stiles was boneless, completely spent but for the first time in weeks he didn't feel as if he were breaking apart at the seams.

Stiles knew that despite the melodic crooning of Marvin Gaye that sexual healing wasn't actually a thing. He wasn't foolish enough to think that sleeping with Scott was the cure to possession by an evil trickster spirit. The Nogitsune had held him prisoner in his own mind and body for weeks.

It was going to take time, possibly a lot of time and several not so fun conversations with Ms. Morrell for him to get better. Stiles knew that, he did.

But still the part of him that he'd thought had been cut open and left to bleed had started to heal. Stiles had been lost in darkness and Scott had come in to shine his light and lead him home. Scott had reached down into the murk and the muck and pulled him out. Now Stiles stood in that golden glow, claiming his space in the Scott's heart even if he still didn't quite believe he had a right to it.

Stiles yelped when a wet cloth swiped across his skin, removing the worst of the sweat and lube he had smeared across his skin. Scott dressed him in a borrowed pair of basketball shorts and then stripped the comforter from the bed, shoving it to the floor beside the abandoned pillow. Stiles allowed Scott free reign as the other boy moved him this way and that until they were both settled underneath the covers.

Sleep beckoned but Stiles was still more than a little wary of answering its siren song.

"Better?" Scott murmured into his ear.

"I am now." Stiles slurred his eyelids heavy. He fought to keep them open even though he knew it was a losing battle.

"Tired?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Sleep," Scott ordered. "We'll shower later. Then we'll let mom feed us and then, if we're really lucky, we won't be sat down at the kitchen table for another one of _those_ talks."

Stiles grimaced. "If she pulls out the condoms and cucumbers again you're on your own. I'm already scarred for life."

"You and me both, now go to sleep."

Stiles only hesitated for a moment. With Scott at his back, one of his legs hooked over Stiles's calves and his hand settled over Stiles's heart, Stiles knew he wouldn't find a stronger shelter from the storm.

"I could sleep," Stiles murmured. He closed his eyes and let himself drift away into the darkness secure in the knowledge that if he got lost, Scott would come in after him and be the light to guide him home.

 

Stones taught me to fly  
Love taught me to lie  
So come on courage  
Teach me to be shy  
Cause it’s not hard to fall  
And I don’t want to scare him

It’s not hard to fall  
And I don’t wanna lose  
It’s not hard to fall  
When you float like a cannonball

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by a specific Scott/Stiles scene in Insatiable. I couldn't get it out of my head and I really love them and their relationship so...fic happened.
> 
> It's my first time writing Sciles (Skittles) and I hope that I did them justice. 
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


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